the little wretch pay for her impertinent suspicions. I pushed past
her brusquely to stand between her and Brian. "Let's go into the hotel,"
I said. "It's more important just now to see what our rooms are like
than to play with the ghosts of dukes."

As if the slighted ghosts protested, there came a loud, reproachful wail
out of space. Everyone started, and stared in all directions. Then the
soberly clad, modern inhabitants of Nancy glanced skyward as they
crossed the square of Stanislas. Nobody hurried, yet nobody stopped.
Men, women, and children pursued their way at the same leisurely pace as
before, except that their chins were raised. I realized then that the
ghostly wail was the warning cry of a siren: "Take cover! Enemy
aeroplanes sighted!" But there was the monotony of boredom in the
voice, and in the air with which passers-by received the news.

"Oh, lord, here I go again!" the weary siren sighed.

"Third time to-day, _mon Dieu_!" grumbled a very old man to a very blase
porter, who dutifully shot out of the hotel to rescue our luggage, if
not us, from possible though improbable danger. We let him haul in our
bags, but remained glued to the pavement, utterly absorbed and
fascinated, waiting for the show to begin.

We had not long to wait! For an instant the pearl-pale zenith shone
serenely void. Then, heralded by a droning noise as of giant bees, and a
vicious spitting of shrapnel, high overhead sailed a wide-winged black
bird, chased by four other birds bigger, because nearer earth. They
soared, circling closer, closer--two mounting high, two flying low, and
so passed westward, while the sky was spattered with shrapnel--long,
white streaks falling slow and straight, like tail-feathers of a shot
eagle.

There was scant time to speak, or even draw an excited breath after the
birds had disappeared, because they were back again, hovering so high
that they were changed to insects.

We ought to have scuttled into the hotel, but somehow we didn't move,
although people in the square seemed suddenly to realize the wisdom of
prudence. Some vanished into doorways, others walked faster--though not
one of those haughty Lorrainers would condescend to run. Forgetful of
ourselves, I was admiring their pride, when an angry voice made me jump.

"You pretend that everything you do, good or bad, is for your brother's
sake, yet you let him risk his life--a _blind_ man!--out here in the
street with bombs and shrapnel dropping